Othniel shouldered past their guide. “I will go first in case those scouts ventured closer to the city.” He cast a glance at her and Judith for a silent approval.
She nodded.
“As you wish.” Telem laced his fingers and, as soon as Othniel balanced himself on one sandal, Telem thrust him upward.
Othniel grabbed hold of the ground and scrambled through the hole. In an instant, he reappeared and watched Telem’s every move. “Send the girls up.”
Judith raced forward, dug her sandal into Telem’s palms and reached for Othniel’s hand as if it were made of gold.
Telem hesitated.
“Push me up,” Judith demanded. Her onyx-eyed glare bore into Telem.
Adah cleared her throat. Telem eased Judith toward Othniel as if she were a fine alabaster vase.
Once her sister was safely above the tunnel, Adah faced Telem. Desperation crept over her like an infectious rash. How could Telem refuse to return to his own city? Where was his loyalty to Jerusalem? To her mother? She had agreed to set stone upon stone, and she would uphold her vow, with or without Telem.
She whipped her head back and met the stare of the wayward Israelite. “What shall I tell my mother? Does she not matter to you? Did she ever?”
Telem’s lips became as thin as thread. He shook his mane. ”Maybe you should ask her why she tried to trick me by sending a daughter into my presence that resembles my wife.”
How dare he insult her mother? Wife? No woman lived here. Heat flashed through Adah’s body from her toes to her temples. Did this man not listen?
“My mother is without sight.” The statement flew loud and fast from her lips. “She has not seen her daughter’s face in more than a year. If anyone is a trickster it is you, Master Builder, creeping around in your cave.”
“Adah.” Othniel encouraged her to grab his hand.
She waved off her friend. Telem went rigid like a statue with eyes. “Our God has given the governor the resources to rebuild Jerusalem’s wall. I for one, will answer the call no matter if I break my back doing it. Go ahead and hide out here in your hole. Maybe you’ll find your Tabitha.”
Telem yanked her close. Every bone and muscle in her body tensed.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Betray me and my mother. But how will you explain your betrayal to God.”
He placed his hands on her hips and thrust her toward Othniel’s waiting arms. The force of Telem’s push and Othniel’s pull, sent her crashing to the ground.
Othniel knelt beside her. “Are you hurt?”
She didn’t answer. She half-crawled, half-ran to the opening. Telem would not treat a daughter of Shallum this way.
The tunnel stood empty. Telem was gone, along with her hopes of having a skilled craftsman lead her team and uphold her family’s reputation. Remembering Nehemiah’s challenge from the words of David, she yelled into the pit, “Be strong and courageous and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged for the Lord, God is with us.” She turned and caught Othniel and Judith staring at her as if she had heat sickness.
Adah sprang to her feet, dusted off her dress, and adjusted the beads of her necklace. “I tell you the truth,” she said, a fist resting on each hip. “With or without Telem’s help, Jerusalem’s wall will rise again.”
8
Days later, Adah perched atop a stone as the sun sank below the distant hills leaving a haze of muted scarlet at the sky’s edge. Without Telem, a shoulder-high column erected with a few squared stones was all her family had managed to build. Her palms ached like she cradled the setting sun. Every finger had a blister at its base. Did she have the strength to struggle through another day?
“God, where are You in my need? My body is weary. What strength do I have compared to a man?” A warmth tingled behind her eyes. “Was it a mistake to step forward and heed the governor’s call?”
The shuffling sound of sandals grew closer. Was one more gawker coming to laugh at the daughter of Jacob? A woman foolish enough to do a man’s work.
“It is getting late.” Othniel climbed onto her rock, balancing with one arm as he steadied a basket with the other. “Your mother is worried. She sent me with some bread and oil.”
Adah took the food while Othniel settled next to her. “I told her I would be along, but I believe my feet are baked onto these boulders. I cannot take one more step.”
She uncapped the bottle of oil and breathed in the aroma of lavender and iris with a hint of bay leaf. The sweet, herbal scent renewed her spirit. She handed the small jar to Othniel, rose from her seat, and walked to a vessel of water to clean her hands. “Blessings upon my mother for sending a soothing balm. She must be concerned.”
Othniel turned toward her. He waved the bottle under his nose and breathed in the fragrance. “Your family saw how hard you worked.”
Adah dried her hands on a cloth and returned to her spot next to Othniel. “Yet everyone has completed double of what we have done.”
“Is this a race?” Othniel broke off a piece of bread and offered it to her.
“I wish it were, so it would be over by now.” She bit into it. A rush of rosemary and garlic awakened her tongue. “Judith has added some herbs.”
Othniel grinned at her with a face scrubbed clean of the day’s dirt. “Your sister blends spices I have never heard of before, but then I have never been to the palace in Susa or eaten of the governor’s provisions.”
The seasoned bread became a lump of dough in her stomach. She could not remember a time when Othniel had eaten at her family’s table. So many people suffered from hunger and debt. How could she complain about a few calluses? Look around you.
While she ate, Othniel surveyed the scattered stones and told her which ones would be best for the base of the wall. His words grew in eagerness as her heart grew in sadness. Would Othniel’s reputation be sullied for working with her? Would his brothers tease him when the height of the woman’s wall lagged behind all others? Was it fair of her to hold him to his pledge? Later she would deliver meat and spices from her father’s rations to Othniel’s household to ward off any grumbling from his brothers.
A bite of bread stuck in her throat. She coughed and forced a subdued enthusiasm. “Have you checked on your family’s progress?”
He shook his head. A few unruly curls strayed from beneath his clean turban. “I work for you.”
“You mean you work with me. I paid you with my father’s coins.”
“But I took them from your hand, and we will honor our commitment to the governor and to God. Speaking of hands.” He took hold of her right one. “Where is that oil?”
She tried to pull free from his grasp but his grip did not lessen. Another quick tug. “What are you doing?”
“Healing these blisters.”
Othniel held onto her hand, but he managed to uncork the balm. Her insides rolled as if they were swept upon a wave, for his touch was firm yet gentle enough not to irritate her sores.
“My skin is accustomed to tilling hard soil.” He cocked his head. “When was the last time you farmed?”
Wiggling her toes, she tried to concentrate on another part of her body other than the one Othniel stroked. “I don’t believe I have ever tilled a field…unless digging a root is counted.”
He laughed. “It isn’t.”
She let him turn her palm toward the darkening sky. A drop of oil stung her raw flesh ever so slightly, but it was a good sting like one that would end in healing. Othniel’s thumb caressed the joints in her hand, round and round, weaving a pattern across her skin. If the wind blew her off this rock she wouldn’t even care, for the aroma of sweet lavender and Othniel’s careful touch had caged her will to fight his closeness.
“You shouldn’t be doing this.” Her wisp of discouragement fell on mute ears, for when he reached for her other hand she gave it freely.
“I know what I am doing.” His gaze held her attention like an enchanter’s spell. “I’m applying a balm to a fellow laborer’s hand. Who is
going to challenge me?”
“I am.”
Adah gasped, pulled her hand from Othniel, and slid from the rock to face the rebuker. Her heart fluttered to her throat, banishing her moment’s rest. The basket of bread tumbled to the ground as Othniel drew to her side.
“Telem?” Her voice rasped with disbelief. The recluse stared at her, a donkey at his side. His hair was tied at his neck with only a hint of the bushiness remaining. His twisted yarn of a beard had been cut short. Telem’s woven tunic showed no signs of wear and he was flanked on each side by young men of some means who carried thick satchels. If she didn’t recognize his deep boom of a voice, she would have strolled right by him on the street. “What are you doing here?”
Telem clicked his tongue. “Did you not summon me to restore your section of the wall, or was your arrival in my cave a dream? Oh no, it couldn’t have been, for I remember the foreigners traipsing through my home.” He hooked a thumb in his corded belt. “Though you seem to have forgotten the threat, for we strolled right through Jerusalem’s gates.”
A surge of energy almost lifted Adah off the ground. How dare Telem toss her through a hole in the ground and pretend he was the one who was wronged.
“We did tell Nehemiah about the scouts in the hills,” she said. “The governor has letters of travel from the king and showed them throughout Hauran and Samaria for safe passage. Our city officials believed the men to be curious, but not a threat. No one has ventured into the city.”
“Hah.” Telem’s outburst sent his donkey into a backward side-step. “Since when did a piece of parchment keep the enemies of Judah from conspiring against us?”
She squeezed the handle of her basket with such fervor, her palm flamed. She contemplated tossing the woven carrier at Telem. “Are you questioning my father’s judgment?”
“Someone should.” Telem regarded Othniel. “Do not tell me you trust half-breed Ammonites and Samaritans?”
Othniel kicked at the ground with his sandal. He cast a glance her direction. “We are under the king’s protection.”
“And which one of our corpses is going to alert Artaxerxes about a surprise raid?” Telem nudged one of his companions for affirmation.
Did Telem think she was ignorant of the threats Jerusalem faced? Had she not heard stories of Nebuchadnezzar’s siege? Seen the rubble from the destruction of her city? Heard of the scattering of her people?
She wrapped her arms around her waist to keep her hands from trembling. “Jerusalem has enough rulers to see to her safety. Meshullam’s daughter would have sent word if her father-in-law was bringing soldiers from beyond the Jordan to wage war on Jerusalem. Meshullam is restoring our city’s wall not far from our site. He is loyal to Nehemiah.”
Telem threw up his hands. “Who discusses battle plans with a woman?” His gaze darted between her and Othniel. “Seek out Nehemiah again. That is all I ask.”
“And what about your masonry skills?” She threw her shoulders back. A dull ache greeted her straightened posture. “My task has not changed. I mean to restore a section of this wall so no enemy will be too great for my city.”
“So you said in the cave.” Telem grabbed a sack from atop his donkey. The two men accompanying the builder looked like they had been struck dumb. “There is no need to repeat your request. We have come to aid you.”
Adah breathed out the angst of the past days. She now had a skilled mason to guide her family and more helpers with strong backs. Selah! God had not abandoned her in her pledge.
She nodded toward Telem and his men and tried to subdue her exuberant spirit. Perhaps with expert workers, her section would rise past the others. “Then we welcome you.”
Othniel positioned himself at her side. “Greetings my brother, even though your assistance comes later than we expected.”
Telem splayed an arm over his packed donkey. “How could I run off without my belongings or my tools?”
Telem gave orders to start a fire. One of his men grabbed a shovel and headed toward the stones upon which she and Othniel had been sitting.
Othniel took hold of the donkey’s bridle. “It’s almost dark. We have finished for now.”
While inspecting their wall, Telem paused. “You may work the middle of the night or the middle of the day. Your choice. But this work is not done.”
“Of course not.” Adah followed Telem outside the wall. “It has only been a few days since we visited you in the catacombs.”
“The cornerstone is too small.” Telem pointed to the cut stone they laid. “Do you want an easy breech?” He kicked at the next boulder. “Who leveled the ground? I can pound a foot under here.”
Othniel scaled over the stones waiting to be placed. “What are you saying?”
“He’s saying we need to start anew.” Adah’s throat tightened. She barely had the energy to remain upright, but she had pledged to complete a section of the wall, and finish this section she would.
Flames erupted from a fire pit near where she and Othniel had sat. How foolish they were to be content with their own unskilled labors.
She glanced up at the graying sky. A few stars shone overhead. One hovered so close above the temple, it appeared a priest could touch it on his tip-toes. Breathing in the scent of the campfire, she closed her eyes and imagined what Jerusalem would look like with a barrier enclosing its homes, markets, and streets. Streets where King David danced and warriors died.
When she opened her eyes, she turned toward Telem. “Find our cornerstone, mason. Let’s make Jerusalem a fortress once again.”
9
After the Sabbath, Adah devoted herself to laying the foundation for her family’s section of the wall. Priests labored near the Valley Gate, so her father’s area would need to abut their build. She tugged on the bridle of Telem’s donkey, her arm muscles tensing as she coaxed the animal forward and up an embankment. The large rock harnessed to the donkey would add width to the base of the wall. Othniel dislodged the stone for momentum so the animal would not balk at the weight as it pulled the stone up the slow rise of the valley.
A faint ache pulsed through her healing blisters as she guided the donkey closer to the stone cutters.
Telem halted his shaping of the stone and stood, arching his back with his blade overhead for balance. “Where did you go to get that boulder? The palace in Susa?”
“I do not want the donkey to go lame.” She patted the animal’s neck. Damp hair clung to the bandage on her blistered hand. “He needs a rest soon.”
“The donkey or the boy?” Telem chuckled and aimed his blade toward Othniel.
Othniel gave the large stone a shove. “If the animal goes down, we will carry these loads with our backs.” He wiped his brow and cast a glance at their task master. “I am accustomed to clearing fields of rocks. You only lived in one.”
“Hurry then, teacher.” Telem grinned while hammering a newly placed stone. With each strike hair escaped from its band. “We need to cut another rock.”
Othniel jogged alongside the boulder as it slid on smoothed ground. “Did someone not feed our mason this morning? He is snapping more than a turtle.”
Adah placed a finger to her lips. “Judith keeps his stomach full. He must be getting hungry.”
She neared the work area that had doubled in size since Telem’s arrival. In the center of the cleared ground, ended by the collapsed wall and a row of dwellings inhabited by the relatives of priests, stood a pot cooking over a flame. The air smelled like pine sap, but Telem assured her that she was mistaken about his mixture. A mortar barrel set beside a row of water jugs. Crushed limestone speckled the dirt.
Her arms trembled from battling the donkey’s stubbornness. A fresh spot of blood stained the cloth protecting her palm, but she would not complain. A swell of gratitude pounded through her chest. How could she thank God for providing a mason and laborers to assist her family?
Not only did Telem return to his birthplace, but he brought two brothers with him, Jehu and Jehuliel.
These brothers, returning from Sidon, had joined Telem on his trip from the hills. While Jehu and Jehuliel cut stone, Telem fastened the bricks together with the tiniest of seams. Her father carried buckets of sand instead of passing judgment in the courts. And now, younger men lifted rock instead of an old man and his daughters. The clanks and scrapes of chisels, mallets, and blades created a rhythm more melodious than a finely plucked harp.
As far as she could see, her people labored to restore dignity and protection to their city. Dust clouds rose from where stones were shaped. Smoke escaped from beneath boiling pots. Jerusalem would once again be the sparkling jewel of Judah. What a proud governor they would have in Nehemiah.
Othniel stroked the donkey’s muzzle, pleasing the animal. “Your sister and mother are coming with food for the beast.”
His teasing broke her trance. “The donkey or Telem?”
“Shalom.” Adah waved. Her mother approached carrying a large basket while Judith balanced a jug on her shoulder and took hold of their mother’s arm.
Turning his back toward the workers, Othniel leaned in as if to check the donkey’s bit. “Did your mother reveal what happened to Telem’s wife? For it appears he may seek another.” He nodded in Judith’s direction.
“Woe to the thought.” She admired Judith’s scarlet veil and braided belt. If the ensemble caught Adah’s attention, a man’s eye would surely be drawn to her form. “My mother said it wasn’t her place to speak of Telem’s past. The truth should come from him.”
The reclusive and stiff-necked mason practically leapt from his station on the wall as her sister grew near. Telem tossed his mallet to the ground without seeming to care where it landed.
Othniel patted the donkey’s shoulder. “Will you share the truth with me when it is revealed?”
“What don’t I share with you?” Othniel had been at her side listening to her babble as they accompanied her mother all over the outskirts of the city seeking plants for fragrant oils. He knew the valleys and streams and, during the last year when her mother stayed indoors, they had traveled the terrain alone.
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